


False Line

by QwQ_nahhh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Food mention, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Cas, Sick Cas, Supportive Dean, vomiting mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QwQ_nahhh/pseuds/QwQ_nahhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas' pregnancy test comes up negative, but Dean still thinks Cas might be pregnant, especially when he continues to exhibit all the telltale symptoms. Cas rejects the idea and refuses to take another test out of fear of being disappointed again, but he can’t deny it any longer when his pants stop fitting…</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Line

**Author's Note:**

> { [read on tumblr](http://wiccastiel.tumblr.com/post/113982378798/false-line) }
> 
> ////// heyyyy i finally posted something on here :0

Silence stretches out between them, and it’s painfully distancing. Cas’ hands are in his pockets as he leans against the bathroom doorway, facing Dean out in the hall, but he’s staring at the ground as Dean watches him, concerned. 

“Cas… Where is it?” Dean finally asks, looking him over as if in search of a clue. The question earns him Cas’ eye contact, and for a long moment he just stares. 

“It’s in the trash,” Cas says with a subtle quiver in his voice, and his eyes are suddenly drawn back to the floor. 

“It was negative. There’s no need to keep it.”

Dean lets out a heavy sigh. His shoulders slump to the slightest degree as his brow furrows and lips press tightly together. Cas steps forward then, hands still pocketed and gaze still drawn downward as Dean takes him into his arms. 

“It’s okay, man,” Dean tries to reassure. “That just means we’ve got time to actually prepare, y’know? We’ll get there.”

“I know,” Cas breathes, absently rubbing his stomach, “I just…had become rather attached to the idea of a child being present.”  
With a sad sigh, Dean leans in to kiss Cas’ cheek. “I know, man. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, wishing he were better at knowing the right things to say. “We can start trying whenever you’re ready,” he promises. “We’ll get there.”

He leans in for another kiss, but Castiel turns away.

“Not now, Dean,” Cas sighs, shrugging him off and turning back towards the bathroom. “I’m feeling a bit sick.”

Dean swallows thickly. “Hey, Cas?” he calls, and Castiel stops in the doorway. “Maybe it’s time to go see a doctor…y’know, if you’re not…”

“Not now, Dean.” Cas shuts the door behind him, and Dean hears the lock click.

—

Cas is far too tired for this. He stares at the box Dean is holding out to him with no intention of taking it.

“No, Dean.”

He feels like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Cas, for god’s sake will you just take the damn test?”

“Dean, I said no,” Cas asserts with a huff. 

Their gazes remain locked for several seconds before Cas turns swiftly and walks around to the couch where he plops himself down and curls up in the corner with his back towards Dean. He can feel Dean watching him as he adjusts the sofa’s small square pillow so it sits between his head and the armrest. He closes his eyes.

It’s silent between them for several minutes.

Cas hears the faucet running in the kitchen behind him but doesn’t think much of it in his exhausted state.

It’s difficult to tell whether he’d dozed off for a moment, but some time later he’s peeling his eyelids apart and Dean is offering him a steaming mug of tea. The look of surprise leaves Cas’ face almost as quickly as it had come. 

“Thank you, Dean,” he murmurs, accepting the mug gratefully. He breathes in the warmth and hums, taking a moment to appreciate the calming sensation.

Cas takes the small tab attached to the tea bag between his fingers. It reads, ‘let your heart speak to others’ hearts.’ He lets it go.

“Please take the test, Cas.”

Castiel lifts his head, his expression suddenly icy.

“Just hear me out, man- please,” Dean pleads. Cas wants to say no, but Dean’s eyes are tired and worried. Cas takes a deep breath and continues to stare silently; he’s far from pleased, but Dean knows he’s listening.

“Cas, it’s been weeks, man. Your symptoms are spot on. I just– I don’t know what else it could be.” Dean swallows, averting his gaze briefly before flitting back to Cas. “Y’know, it worries me, not knowing; ‘specially when I hear you puking your guts up multiple times a day,” he admits with a humorless laugh.

“Look, maybe the first one was faulty - manufacturing error, whatever. I even got a different brand, okay. Just, please, Cas…humor me.”

Cas is quiet for a long time, watching Dean sadly.

“Dude, it’s been over a month now - you can’t seriously think this is just nothing! What if you’re really sick, Cas? That’s not something you can just ignore, alright?”

“I understand this,” Cas says carefully, his tone flat.

Dean tilts his head back in a gesture of frustration. “Then why can’t you just take the fucking test?”

“Because I don’t want to feel that disappointment again!”

Suddenly everything feels unnaturally still. Dean watches the hurt leaking through Cas’ eyes into his expression. “Cas…”

“Not now, Dean.”

—

It’s a Saturday morning, sunny and reasonably warm, and Cas is smiling. They’re going to the farmer’s market just down the street, and Cas is so excited he’d nearly walked out the door wearing nothing but Dean’s t shirt and boxer briefs.

There’s just one problem though. Cas is now discovering he can’t seem to button his jeans.

After weeks of keeping almost nothing down, save crackers and toast, Cas is certain this isn’t possible. He was able to get them on just a few days ago - although, now that he thinks back, they had been awfully tight.

Cas swallows and sits down on Dean’s side of the bed. “Dean?” he calls.

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice echoes down the hall, though Cas can hear he’s coming closer. “What’s up, babe?”

“I…” Cas breathes in deep. “Do you still have that test? I think…I may be pregnant.”

—

Groaning, Castiel rolls over in bed. He finds that the task requires significantly more effort that he had anticipated, and glancing at the clock on the nightstand, deems that it is, in fact, much too early for this. 

What he wouldn’t give for another sleep cycle is a mystery beyond human comprehension.

Dean stirs behind him, and Cas silently berates himself for not being more careful. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” Dean mumbles, sliding an arm around Cas’ chest.

Dean’s touch is warm and comforting, but it isn’t quite the relief Cas is looking for. He squirms slightly, trying to get comfortable, and huffs, “your daughter won’t stop kicking me.”

“Hey, she’s yours too,” Dean corrects playfully, gliding his arm down to rest around the curve of Cas’ belly, “and you can’t blame me if she wants to be a runner like you.”

“I can blame you for anything and everything,” Cas deadpans, and Dean smiles, propping himself up and planting a kiss on Cas’ cheek. 

“Come downstairs with me, and I’ll make you some tea,” he offers.

“Dean. It isn’t even six o’clock,” Cas complains, although tea does sound rather enticing.

“C’mon, man, I’ll make breakfast,” Dean adds, still smiling, “and we can get cozy on the couch and make fun of the morning newscasters.”

Cas smiles at that, and with some effort, turns himself around to bring their lips together. “Okay, but you better make waffles.”

“You can count on it,” Dean assures, helping him sit up when suddenly Cas grimaces. 

“…and for the love of god, Dean, please tell your daughter to stop kicking me in the ribs.”


End file.
